


ground control

by Anonymous



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender-Neutral Traveler (Andromeda Six)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In which you find it hard to deal with the newfound knowledge and find an unlikely companion in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Damon Reznor/Traveler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86
Collections: anonymous





	ground control

**Author's Note:**

> now this obviously contains ch3 spoilers so be warned!
> 
> i also dont know what this is. im trying to break myself out of writing block and this is my first time publishing something since last year. hope it doesn't suck.
> 
> also, english isn't my first language. sorry for any mistakes.

Your father was a horrible man.

You're fully aware of that, and you know that every aspect of him was rotten. 

Awful husband, awful father, awful king. 

Did he deserve to be murdered? 

You're not in the position to judge, but you can't say you feel bad he's gone. 

And yet, June's earlier words ring out in your head as you lay in bed at night. You don't blame him, of course - you can't even imagine the trauma he must carry, all due to your father's actions, but… something about the rest of your family being grouped into the same category as him makes you nauseous. 

Yes, maybe you haven't tried to change anything, but did you really have a chance? Did you have a voice? Did anyone, besides Nerissa  _ care  _ what you thought? Some small part of you feels like your parents and other siblings forgot you existed at times. 

But does that even matter? They're all gone, and you, as the heir to the throne will have to deal with repercussions of your father's actions. 

It wasn't ever supposed to be this way. You're the  _ eleventh  _ child, you were  _ never  _ supposed to even  _ think _ about being the ruler. All you were ever supposed to do was sit in your designated castle wing and look as the world revolved around you. 

The walls of your room suddenly begin to feel suffocating, and you rush outside without giving it much thought. It's way too late for you to be out, and if you don't want to risk awakening the Commander or anyone who wouldn't like you to be up so late; though you don't think a lot of them will be asleep. 

You slowly pace the length of the hallway, arms wrapped around yourself as you mull over the memories over and over again. Some small, bitter part of you feels bad for the crew. They never asked to deal with any of this, and yet, none of them have been explicit about wanting you to leave.

Besides Damon, that is, but that just how the assassin is and you can't blame him. 

Still, you feel almost guilty for bringing it all with you. Perhaps it would be better if you eventually left. Perhaps you could do  _ something,  _ try and make a change. And if in the process you got caught and Zovack finished the job?

As scared as you are to admit it, it probably wouldn't be that bad. 

Because, honestly? You're  _ terrified. _ You just remembered who you were after what feels like years of not knowing, and that put you in a position you never thought you'd be in. You're not prepared to follow in your father's footsteps, hell, you don't even know if you  _ want  _ to. Not only that, but being painfully aware that every person that ever cared about you is either  _ dead  _ or  _ hates you?  _ It hurts you down to your core, phantom aches of grief spreading through your entire body as you remember the day of your brother's wedding. 

And to think that the very person who  _ saved your life,  _ now most likely hates you because of all the pain your father has inflicted on them? 

You barely force down the tears that fill your eyes, not wanting to make more noise that you already do. You're on a spaceship, stuck with a group of mercenaries you barely know, miles away from--

It's not like you have a home anymore, is it? 

The realization hits you like a freight train, nausea and anxiety rolling over you in waves and you stumble forward, needing to get back into your room. 

A voice rings out, way too loud in the quiet hallway. "You'll wear a hole in the floor with your pacing,  _ your majesty."  _

"Don't call me that," comes out of your mouth before you can really think about it. The title makes your heart ache, memories of Vexx resurfacing once again. You feel detached from the person in your memories, like you've changed too much in the time you didn't remember. Like you don't deserve to be treated as royalty. 

"Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll consider it." While on any other day Damon's teasing was a welcome thing, right now you were simply  _ too tired _ for it, and seconds away from having a breakdown. You've tried your best not to show too many negative emotions around the crew (apart from the time you first saw the music box), but if the assassin persists - and you think he might - he's going to have to deal with a crying mess. And none of you are prepared for that. 

A tired sigh leaves your lips when you see him blocking the entry to your room. "Fuck off, Damon." You mutter with no real bite to it, weakly attempting to push him aside. He moves away by himself, bright eyes noticing the way your entire body shakes, and trails behind you as you enter your room. 

Right. You knew he was going to do that.

His presence should be comforting, you think as you sit on the bed and stare at the ceiling, but not when you're panicking over not belonging and the fact that you  _ should be dead.  _

Damon scans the room with raised eyebrows, and settles down in the desk chair, focusing his eyes somewhere above your head.

For once, he's silent.

He's waiting for you to say something. 

You're not sure if it's worth saying out loud, so you stay quiet. Every variant of how you should phrase it just sends your mind reeling, hitting you with the waves of emotion that leave your chest aching and your eyes watering.

The silence lasts almost half an hour, after which you decide that you  _ quite literally  _ have nothing to lose. "Maybe you and Calderon were right," you say, voice wavering just a little bit. "Maybe you should've left me on Teranium when you had the chance.  _ Maybe  _ you should sell me over to Zovack." 

Damon doesn't reply for a long time, and the regret creeps down your throat. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He finally says, but it lacks the snarky edge, it's bordering on  _ soft.  _

"It's the lesser evil," you shrug, trying to seem unbothered, but your throat is tight and tears are blurring your vision. "If I try and go back, I'll get killed. If I stay, I'm eventually gonna get not only me, but the rest of you killed. Just spare yourself the trouble." 

"Or you can stay here, shut your pretty mouth, and wait until we figure something out," Damon replies, and his voice is cold and demanding, but when you look as him his face is anything but. There is the hint of pity in his eyes, again. 

A bitter smile finds its way onto your lips. "Is it worth it?" The first tears fall and you harshly scrub at your face with your hands. "As soon as someone finds out I'm still alive, they're gonna--" 

"No one's going to find out." Damon cuts you off, pointing at you with a small dagger that he's spent the last 5 minutes cleaning. "As long as we're here to babysit you." 

You raise your eyebrows at him and the knife, despite knowing he's not trying to be threatening. "You won't always be here. " 

The ship is supposed to land on Cursa fairly soon. It would be so,  _ so  _ easy to slip away without being seen. From Damon's stories, you can imagine you won't last long, but… 

At least you'll be out of their hair soon. 

The assassin must see the look on your face, because he fixes you with a hard glare. "If you try to do some stupid shit while we're on Cursa, I'll make damn sure you won't leave this ship again." 

For some reason  _ that  _ is what ignites that flame back inside of you. "Why do you care all of sudden?" You bite back, narrowing your eyes at the surprised expression on his face. "I'm not supposed to be here, Damon! If June knew who I was from the beginning, he probably would've left me out there to die!" 

You stand up, ready to kick him out, fists clenched at your sides. It's only half unexpected when Damon stands up sharply and gets into your space, crowding you against the wall. It lacks the suggestive remarks and sly smiles he usually gives you in this position, but the tension is still there. 

"I don't know what the fuck June told you," he hisses, low in his throat. "But we do _not_ leave innocent people to die, no matter where they come from. And most importantly, we do _not_ let self sacrificing idiots get themselves killed." He jabs a finger into your chest to make a point, and keeps his hand there. You're pretty sure he can feel your heart pounding. 

"Thought you said you weren't a babysitter," you mutter dumbly, all fight now drained out of you. It's obvious now that  _ this  _ is not the end of this conversation, but you're just  _ so tired.  _

That elicits a low chuckle out of Damon, as he shakes his head at you with something like fondness in his eyes. "And yet, here we are." He replies quietly, hand still not leaving your chest. 

The two of you stay like that for a few moments, and you faintly think that this is the softest you've ever seen him. 

"Now," Damon breaks the silence, taking a step back. "Are you going to try something stupid, or can I go back to sleep?" His tone makes it seem like a joke, but you see through him. 

You shrug in response. "I should be fine for now," you tell him, slowly moving back towards your bed. 

"Alright, then," he says, heading for the door. "Goodnight,  _ your majesty.  _ If you get lonely, you know where my room is." And just like that, with a wink and a mock salute, he's gone. 

This- whatever this was, didn't make you feel  _ much  _ better. But the knowledge that at least someone,  _ wants you to stay,  _ will have to be enough for now. 


End file.
